


Come Undone ~ A 221B* Birthday Gift

by BlackMorgan



Series: 221B's [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, corset porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMorgan/pseuds/BlackMorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lacing of boots, now that was easy, that John could do with his eyes closed, using his teeth.  But corsetry?  Sheer witchery! Trust those damned Victorians to never make anything easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Undone ~ A 221B* Birthday Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Atlin Merrick](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Atlin+Merrick).



The lacing of boots, now that was easy, that John could do with his eyes closed, using his teeth. But corsetry? Sheer witchery! Bracing one leg against the bed posts they didn't have while Sherlock gasped and pleaded, "tighter," almost made him feel guilty. Almost. Yet that silhouette, all tiny waist and beckoning arse was appeasement aplenty. Trust those damned Victorians to never make anything easy.

John winced in sympathy. “Look love, this can’t be healthy.”

Sherlock inhaled sharply. “Nonsense, people have been wearing corsets for centuries!” He tilted an en-ruffled arse invitingly.

John swallowed, suppressing the urge to climb on board then and there and rut himself silly. He spread his knees against the edge of the bed, perhaps a little wider than necessary and hauled on the laces until he found himself groin deep in corseted detective. It was pointless to pretend this wasn’t having an effect on his anatomy.

His lover arched his spine and pressed back encouragingly, voice pitched perfectly. “Tighter, if you’re going to mount me.”

Damned if John could refuse Sherlock when he was dripping in _come fuck me._

One last tug and the edges cleaved neatly.

The air stilled around the slow drag of a zipper, the rustle of denim pushed low on eager hips and the sweet slide of tongue into proffered booty.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to the lovely word witch, [Atlin Merrick](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick)  
> If it were not for your pen, my mind would not be nearly as filthy, so a small token of appreciation from the boys of 221B.
> 
>  
> 
> _*A 221B is a fic that consists of exactly two hundred and twenty one words, the last word beginning with a "b." The name refers to the flat shared by Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, at the address 221B Baker Street, in London._


End file.
